


...And the Devil You Know

by GrumpyJenn



Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: Journey of the Mind, References to Classic Literature, Tome of Evil, Trapped, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2018-03-09 18:52:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3260672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrumpyJenn/pseuds/GrumpyJenn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Feel free to enjoy Spot the Reference. I know I did.</p>
        </blockquote>





	1. Trapped!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [justlook3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/justlook3/gifts), [AnagramRMX](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnagramRMX/gifts).



“This has been going on for _hours_?” He stared down at Cassandra, apparently sleeping but pale as death, on the couch in the Library Annex. “ _Christ_ , Jones, why didn’t you call me?”

Jacob Stone was absolutely livid, because he’d come back to the Library after a weekend at home in Oklahoma, and Cassandra was hurt. Or sick, or something, and no-one had let him know 

He rode right over Ezekiel’s protests that Jenkins had said not to bother Jake, and whirled on the old man himself. “And _you_ , where the hell were you when this happened? She…” He trailed off as a wave of guilt hit him and he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. _Not their fault, not really. Mine, because I wasn’t here to protect her. God knows she needs protection._ “Sorry,” he said shortly, opening his eyes. “I just… what can we do to wake her up?”

Jenkins handed him a book, and Jake almost dropped it the second he touched it. Jenkins gave what was – for Jenkins – a sympathetic smile. “I was not sure you would be sensitive enough to feel the, er… I believe the term is “bad vibes” inherent in the book. This is what Cassandra was perusing when she went into one of those trances she sometimes has. I am afraid that neither I nor Mr. Jones have the… knack... for providing a focus for her during these trances that you do.”

Jake found himself nodding, even as his skin crawled from the contact with the book. “How the hell did she even hold onto it?” He was just wondering aloud, but Jenkins actually answered him.

“Gloves,” he said shortly. “She was going out and she spotted this by the Back Door. The gloves must have insulated her against the effect. It wasn’t until she started reading that she… well… you can see for yourself.” He indicated the form of the sleeping girl on the couch.

“Let me guess,” Jake sighed, hastily putting the book down on a table. “She’s… trapped in there somewhere, or astrally projecting or God knows?”

“Don’t think God’s got anything t’do with it, mate,” put in Ezekiel, “But I think she’s stuck, yeah.”

“As do I. And I suspect that you, Mr. Stone, as the one who can help her to focus under usual circumstances, are the key to unlocking the trap.”

“Awesome,” Jake said, wondering when he’d started sounding like Baird. But if Cassie needed him – and it looked like she did – then he didn’t really have a choice. “What do I do?”

Jenkins visibly shook off the almost tender look on his face as he gazed down at Cassandra, and became very briskly efficient. “It is my belief that she would be best served by you going in to get her. The best way to do that would seem to be reading the book. I suspect you would have to touch her – hold her hand, perhaps – in order to enter her own mind rather than your own.”

Jake took a deep breath. “All right,” he said grimly, sitting and taking Cassie’s hand. “Let’s do this.”


	2. Mind

_swirls of discordant purple  
vanilla-scented numbers   
letter Q tasting of lemon   
equations sounding like birdsong_

It was beautiful and mixed-up and dangerously tempting to just lose himself in here, and Jake was going crazy trying to make sense of it all. He liked _order_ in what he could see and touch and taste, dammit, and he couldn’t see how she could _live_ with this – was it like this for her all the time? He saw an image of Cassie with a giant grape sticking out of her head, and he smelled that wildflower scent that always clung to her, and he heard the sound of her weeping; big blue eyes were beseeching him to forgive her, to trust her, please, Jake, please.

Jake figuratively shook his head and focused on a small patch of… something, trying to tune the rest of the chaos in Cassandra’s head out, trying to find her here in her own mind. It wasn’t working, not at all, so he closed his eyes – to hell with _figuratively_ , because he’d never get anything done if had to keep thinking that all the time – and just _listened_.

 _Jake_  
here   
somewhere here…

Jake opened his eyes and saw her, lying on… well, actually it looked remarkably like the couch she – her body – was lying on, back in the Library Annex. But unlike her real body, this one’s eyes were open, though unfocused. And the background, except for the couch, was not the Library Annex; it was a nauseating swirl of colors and numbers and sounds and scents, and Jake wanted to close his eyes again. But he was afraid that if he did, he’d lose her, never find her, and he shuddered even harder at the thought.

“You could fix her, you know.” It was a familiar, purring sort of voice, _but she’s dead,_ Jake’s mind reminded him, _how can she be here, she… calm down, Stone; she’s here because this is a construct in Cassie’s mind, not the real world, her mind. It’s so confusing in here, no wonder she…_ Jake shoved that thought aside. This was not the time to get distracted; he needed his wits about him.

“Hello, Lamia.” Jake did not turn around. Let her come to him if she wanted to see his face.

“Oh, you poor thing, is your little sweetheart down for the count?” _Bitch_ , he thought, _that smug-ass tone even here…_

“She’ll be fine,” Jake ground out between clenched teeth. “We’ll make sure of it. She’s _ours_.”

“That’s not what you said the first time she betrayed you though, is it, lover?” _I was_ never _your lover. Thank God._ “You can’t trust her, you know that. But you could fix her. If you have the balls to do it.” She came around to face him, wearing even less than she had the first time they met, and she dragged a long fingernail down his jawline. “I don’t really think you do.”

“What do you mean by ‘fix,’ Lamia _?” Do_ not _react to her. Keep your eye on the target here, Stone; you want Cassie out of here safely, so don’t play her little game_.

“Why, Jake,” Lamia said, a completely fake note of surprise in her voice, “You can cure her little… malady.”


	3. Triumph

“I can cure her,” Jake said, and it wasn’t so much a question as it was a statement requiring verification. Because there _had_ to be a catch.

“If you’re man enough to…” Lamia trailed off, both delicately and suggestively.

Jake _hated_ her.

“Are you suggesting I—” he began hotly, but she just laughed.

“Of course I’m not.” She sounded offended, but it was so false that Jake wondered how she kept from cracking up into laughter. “I would never suggest you do anything so… unchaste as to force… well.” She waved a hand airily. “No, in here we work by her rules. Sweet little Cassandra’s rules. Look at how she sees you…” She waved the hand again, and Jake looked down at himself involuntarily.

_Oh, for God’s sake. A Knight in Shining Armor? Yeah, right._

“So you see,” Lamia was saying, “In here all it would take is True Love’s Kiss. Do you care for her?”

Jake refused to answer that, but his refusal didn’t stop Lamia.

“I can see that you do. So kiss her, Knight, like you _mean_ it. And she will be well.”

 _Is she telling the truth?_ Jake had to wonder, because if she wasn’t…

…And then all at once, he realized what was going on here, and it wasn’t the fairytale that this too-perfect projection of the woman he had known as Lamia would have him believe.

It was a different story altogether.

“Huh,” Jake managed, trying to sound completely offhand about this whole thing, even though if she realized that _he_ had just realized what she was up to, neither he nor Cassie would make it out of here.

“Do it, Jacob, kiss her… she will be well if you do.”

“She might be well,” Jake said, conversationally. “But she won’t be _her_.”

“What do you m—“

“Just this. You made a mistake, Lamia, and you did it because _you don’t know me_. Not really.” He was on firm ground here; he was, in fact, an expert. “You know that I’m the roughneck with the brain, but you don’t know what that _means_.”

He circled around her to sit beside Cassie’s prone form on the couch, pulling the redhead half into his lap and never taking his eyes off the woman – if she _was_ a woman – in front of him.

“You might represent the Serpent in this world and the real one, Lamia. But me? I represent the one who defeats the serpent. I’m _Faust_.”

Lamia looked… less substantial than previously, sort of translucent, so Jake pressed his advantage. “Not the original Faust though, nope, not me. No eternal hellfire for me; I’ll leave that to you, Mephistopheles. No. I’m Johnny with his fiddle. I’m Shoeless Joe. Hell, I’m Seymour Krelborn.”

Jake could see, out of the corner of his eye, the series of paintings on Faust by Kanso, and then he could see them _through_ the rapidly fading figure of Lamia. “Don’t screw with me, serpent,” he said. “I’m an art historian.”

“No.” Cassandra’s weak voice came from where she was snuggled against his chest. “We’re Librarians.”

And that was when the world exploded, and they both hung on for dear life.


	4. Trust

“Mr. Stone?”

 _‘Mister Stone’  
Nobody calls me that, except…_  

“Jenkins?”

Jake sat up, and was rewarded with an honest-to-God look of relief – maybe even affection – on the old man’s face. “Cassie?” He looked around, and saw her.

 _God_ , she looked good.

“You okay, honey?” Jake managed to say it without his voice cracking, and he had no idea how.

Because he’d – _they’d_ – almost lost her.

“Hi,” Cassie said, and although she still looked exhausted, she had some color in her face now. “I…” And now there was _more_ color in her face as she blushed. “Jake, you… I…”

“It’s okay, darlin’,” he said, completely forgetting about Jenkins and Jones hovering to make sure they were both all right.

He didn’t even notice when they left, partly because he was watching Cassie so carefully, and partly because Jenkins had his hand firmly over Zeke’s mouth.

“You came to get me,” Cassie was saying, and Jake barely heard the slightly disbelieving tone.

“Aw, honey, ‘course I did.” He could hear his voice getting hoarser and more country, but he didn’t even care. Didn’t care that she knew how she affected him, how scared he’d been, none of it bothered him, not today. She was _safe_ , and that’s all that mattered. “I wouldn’t leave you alone.”

“Not even in my own mind,” she whispered in a bitter tone, and he winced. That had come out wrong.

“I didn’t mean…” _Didn’t mean to hurt you, didn’t mean to… dammit._

“I know.” Her voice was solemn, but steady, and she managed a smile. It even reached her eyes a bit, and Jake got lost in the blue depths until he realized she was talking again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you either. Or to drag you into… all that.”

“Into your mind, you mean.” She nodded. “Cass… we got a connection, you an’ me. Jenkins said he couldn’t’a done it; I was the only one, ‘cause of the connection.”

“An obligation,” Cassie said, and nodded. “Of course.”

“ _No_. Cass… I didn’t go in there after you ‘cause I _had_ to. I did it ‘cause I _wanted_ to. Dammit, darlin’, we’re… friends.” He took a deep breath, and finally said what he’d been trying to get at for a long time, months even, at _least_ since the Loom. “Honey, I… I was wrong. About trustin’ you, I mean. You made _one_ mistake…”

“A pretty big one, seeing that it almost got Flynn killed,” Cassie interrupted bitterly.

“All right, a big mistake. But Flynn’s the only one got hurt, and _he_ forgave you before you even finished makin’ it. I didn’t, not even after you gave up the chance for…”

“Shh. I get it, Jake. You didn’t understand, not really, until you saw… well…”

“All that chaos? I guess. But I’m sorry anyways. Cass, I—“

He was interrupted by a kiss. It was just a chaste little peck on the lips, but a kiss nonetheless. “I accept your apology. And Jake?”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“You’re a good guy, Jacob Stone. You’ve got heart.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to enjoy Spot the Reference. I know I did.


End file.
